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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28096710">i know not which i should follow, shadow or song</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Profundus/pseuds/Profundus'>Profundus</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Implied Sexual Content, Kitsune Miya Twins, M/M, Pagan Festivals, Sibling Incest, Worship</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 20:54:00</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>843</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28096710</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Profundus/pseuds/Profundus</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Hunter, snare me his shadow<br/>Nightingale, catch me his string<br/>Else moonstruck with music and madness<br/>I track him in vain</p><p>(Osamu chases Atsumu)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Miya Atsumu/Miya Osamu</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>67</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>i know not which i should follow, shadow or song</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>His feet only touch the forest ground here and there, up and down the oaken roots, leave soft depressions in the lush green moss and break the sprouting blades of grass. He jumps and runs and laughs and sings. Rustles dead and rotting leaves, so soft under his toes. Soft like the red of his fur and Osamu reaches, reaches out in helpless playful desperation that the music teaches him and the fire grows far because Atsumu is terrible at holding the sweet wine from the too-ripe dark blue grapes they pick in summer, so warm from the sun, warm like Atsumu's skin—</p><p>"Tsumu!" he shouts and doesn't know why he's laughing too but maybe they're just the same and the wine is getting to his head and that's why it feels so light. Makes the chase easier, makes the chase harder.</p><p>The waxing moon above and the shimmer of white from Atsumu's tail tip before him, Osamu feels the rhythm of the deerskin drums pound to the beating of his heart.</p><p>Listen, listen, the music is still playing, the others are still dancing.</p><p>He catches him by the wrist first, but they slip apart again because the dew-droplets they shake from a pine branch rain down cold and shocking onto their pulsing skin and Atsumu squeaks with a laugh. Fur and mocking giggles tickle Osamu's throat and then they're dancing through the meadow, escaping from the oppressive shadow of the trees around them.</p><p>Silver moonlight so pleasant on silver hair, just alike, so much alike, and finally they're casting shadows. The stars above wink down like eyes of a welcome audience to the beauty, the grace of Atsumu spinning around and catching Osamu off guard, sweet surprise and glowing skin all over him and he gets hold of his brother's tail, stunning red and white against his ivory flesh, cleaned from every speck of dirt, groomed for hours like Osamu doesn't know how little Atsumu cares on any other night of the year.</p><p>Not tonight, because tonight he cares. Even though they're all mad tonight, moon-drunken and wine-lit and still moving to the rhythm of the drums so far into the forest where dark wings rustle and the fire sparks ember over glossy fur.</p><p>Flocking to the feast, they're all coming from every den and every treetop, but the meadow belongs only to this beautiful vixen staring up at Osamu now, to the moon watching from above where it hangs low upon the horizon and sings something alive that reverberates in Atsumu's body when he arches his back towards the sky.</p><p>Incense and wine, a flicking set of ears amidst hair as grey and shimmering as the first frost of winter and he keens, a bright and echoing sound, into Osamu's mouth. The chase from before is not yet over, not for tonight, but the pursuit has changed. Not against each other, not opposing, not contesting. They're not enemies on this hunt for pleasure, for the sensation of starlight indulgence.</p><p>He tastes it saccharine, supple and rich, on Atsumu's tongue and wonders how much wine he's drunken until now, how much more he will drink, golden chalice marred with emerald tangled vines discarded to the forest floor that's vibrating to the cadence of their heaving chests.</p><p>Their shadows are playing in the grass beside them, lead and follow, fox ears sharp and flattened back against sweat-slicked and dripping hair, swollen lips tinted blue and Osamu remembers them wrapped around the mouthpiece of a flute not too long ago, singing just as clear and sweet and low and alluring to the animal lurking under his brother's skin as his moans and whimpers do.</p><p>Atsumu sings with his body as much as with his voice and it's a melody etched into Osamu's soul and heart and everything earthly about him, a melody that enchants and binds and ties knots into the red string of fate that only two brothers, two friends, two lovers share, all to keep them together when neither has the intention of leaving.</p><p>They pant, delighted relief oh so innocent in the beatitude of the moment, and Atsumu laughs as he tangles his fingers into Osamu's hair and strokes his ears back and leans up and bites down at the tip of one of them, refusing its indignant little twitch.</p><p>Poison, maybe. Not the wine, but the sweetness of his brother in his mouth and in his eyes and ears, sweet-tasting, sweet-looking, sweet-sounding, whispering to him as their souls brush, just for a moment, a second, a fraction of the blink of an eye and an otherworldly pleasure between them like an explosion, like the bursting of a million stars, like fire pouring down on them, birthing new galaxies into the world that belongs only to them, glass bubble safe and sound around two brothers kissing under the moonlight-flooded sky.</p><p>"Catch me," Atsumu whispers, laughs, and the red and white of his tail just so glints in Osamu's vision.</p><p>No, the hunt is not over by far.</p><p>He gives chase again.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>heard a song and wrote a fic: the thrilling drabble</p><p>I actually just listened to Hymn To Pan by Faun and of course I thought of incest. Thanks a lot for that, wifey. Kisses to my misses.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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